Magic Box
by quicksilvertongue
Summary: Arthur Kirkland thought the memories of his pirating days were long behind him, but when he buys a strange old music box from a strange old antique shop, a skeleton from his time of swashbuckling comes out of the closet to wreak havoc on his mind; Or rather, a young girl from his time of swashbuckling.
1. Magica Memoriae

Arthur Kirkland wasn't really one for antique shops, but he just felt the urge to go look around "Magica Memoriae" that day. Maybe it was the "magic" of the name that caught his eye, being a practitioner of such. Reading the whole name, the shop would be called "Magic of Memories" in the English language. Latin gave it a less cliche feel about it though.

A light bell jingled as he opened the glass door to the stuffy shop. The building itself could be considered antique, contributing to the atmosphere of the place. The dim lights in the ceiling added to it, while the white and gold Christmas lights going around the walls and atop the shelves lent a mystical feel as Arthur wandered the aisles, recognizing a few things. Long buried memories arose despite his effort to not think about them.

"See anything you fancy?" A woman's voice sounded from a spot that been previously unoccupied. Arthur turned to see the woman with short, curled blonde hair, wearing a ruffled white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a long, cerulean, velvet skirt. He met his emerald eyes with her aquamarine ones. The woman's smooth voice caught him in a trance and held it with a soft humming to a tune that seemed lullaby-like. After a moment, Arthur regained himself and cleared his throat.

"Er, I suppose. I hadn't actually intended to come in here to begin with though. I'm terribly sorry for any inconvenience, miss." The woman chuckled and took a step forward.

"No apologies needed. You came in here in need of something, and trust me, you shall leave with something you need too." Her bright eyes sparkled ironically in the light with both youth and wisdom.

Arthur looked at her questioningly, taking note to be wary of her.

"Forgive me for not introducing myself. My name is Lottie, or Charlotte if you would rather be more formal. And you are...?"

"Arthur Kirkland. Pleasure to meet you Miss-" Charlotte interrupted with a chuckle.

"Just call me 'Lottie'." She said with an unneeded, or rather late, curtsy. "Now, I trust you will ask questions if need be, and you can very well wander around the store on your own, so I will leave you for the moment." Before he could reply, Lottie turned and walked to some other part of the store. Arthur decided to continue looking around, though cautious in doing so. He didn't pay much attention to the time, but after spending nearly an hour there, Arthur found himself drawn to a plain looking box on a shelf just below his eye level. The box was about the size of the average music box. It had a keyhole on the front side with a latch and a knob on the top, all silver. The rest was plain, unengraved dark cedar wood. He tried opening the latch, but it didn't budge.

He contemplated putting it back, but why would the owner sell the box without the key? Arthur decided to look for Lottie, and just before he called her name, he felt a light tap on his shoulder. He swung around, nearly dropping the box, to see the petite blonde gazing up at him with a soft smile.

"I told you so." Arthur resisted the urge to show her the same scowl he shows to his so-called "friend", Francis. He kept a small smile as he replied though.

"Sorry to correct you, but you stated that I would buy something, whereas that hasn't happened yet." Lottie smirked in return, earning a look of curiosity from Arthur.

"But I also said that not only would you be fully capable of wandering alone, but asking me about something too, like about how that box is locked and the key is nowhere you can see." She had a point. Arthur shifted his posture, still holding the mysterious box with both hands.

"Touche." He hated saying the French word, but sometimes it was simply the best option in a conversation. "So, if I may ask, where is the key?" Her smirk remained a she reached out her hand to him.

"May I?" Arthur nodded and handed the box to her. As soon as it touched her hand, she brought the other up to reach behind his ear. Surprised by the sudden and strange action, he stepped back with a red face. Something cold grazed his ear though. Looking to where her hand hadn't moved from, there was an intricate silver key in her previously empty hand.

"Well that was uncalled for." His tone and look of surpurise made Lottie giggle as she brought her hand down to the box. "Sorry to tell you though, I know better than to fall for a cheap 'magic' trick."

"How did I do it then? How did I so practically make a key appear from behind your ear whereas it was not previously there?" Arthur thought for a moment, also noticing how she was never not smiling in some way.

"To start with, you hid the key in your-" he stopped himself. Had he finished the sentence, the remaining word would have been "sleeve", however, the way hers were rolled up indicated otherwise. She had no pockets either, and he saw that her hands had been empty before and after touching the box, aside from holding said box. A few other theories ran through his mind, but were simultaneously shot down. There was only one possibility left, and the dawning of realization on Arthur's face forced out another quiet giggle from Lottie.

"And?" Was all she said. She had always loved to see the expressions of surpurise, realization, and when someone thought up a great idea, when they spoke if something that they were excited or passionate about. She liked the positive sides of humanity in general, but she never forgot the negative, and it as hard to forgive them until she remembered their potential to be good.

"It's still simple." Arthur vaguely replied, not being particularly comfortable talking about magic to strangers, she this girl was definitely strange on top of mysterious.

"Simple but amusing." Lottie said as she handed the items in her hands back to Arthur. The key was much heavier than he imagined, as it felt to be very close in weight to the box. Once again being interrupted before he could actually speak, the door bell gave an airy jingle, signaling that another customer had come into the shop.

"When you're ready, please come to the counter." And with that, Lottie walked away to greet the other customer.

Arthur wasn't sure what to do. Should he prove her wrong and leave without a word? No, that would be rude. Set the box down and look around some more? But it piqued his curiosity.

He decided to use the key to open the box. As he turned it, there was a mechanical clicking that stopped when he could no longer turn it. A louder click notified that it was unlocked, so he flipped up the latch. Pulling on the knob on top, he lifted the lid to see a tiny doll spinning very slowly as music played from a notched cylinder to the side. The tune seemed familiar, but Arthur couldn't quite place it. Perhaps it was because he was distracted by the weird but barely noticeable aura that seemed to emanate from the inside of the box.

Arthur's curiosity and suspicion of the box led him to decide to go ahead and buy the box. He put the key in his pocket and shut the lid, followed by walking to where the counter and antique cash register were. A moment after he got to the counter, Lottie walked past him and around to the other side, her constant innocent smile still shown on her delicate, pale face.

"How much is the box with the key?" He asked. He saw a slight smirk and realized that another "I told you so" would be coming up shortly. Lottie put out her hand and Arthur gently handed the music box to her. As she flipped it over to look at the under side, Arthur noticed a turn key with a violet string attached to it. He had been wondering where the turn key was, since they are usually on the back of the box rather than hidden in the bottom.

Lottie looked at a similarly colored tag that was attached to it then set it down on the counter.

"This music box and key were made in the very same year that a famous pirate with your same name disappeared. The locksmith's name was Thomas Kingsbury, later to be known for founding the city of Kingsbury just a little under an hour's drive south from here. A clock maker made the box and mechanism. As for the doll..." she paused to debate the best way to explain without giving away too much.

"Before I continue, why don't you take another look." It seemed almost as if she were stalling, but Arthur went ahead and picked up the music box after Lottie opened it. He had only glanced at the doll before, but now he looked at the details. She had a deathly pale looking color to her skin, though that was normal for porcelain dolls. Her hair was colored a dark burgundy with side swept bangs and a ponytail that only reached the nape of her neck. Her tiny eyes and eyeshadow had been painted as blue as the ocean, and she wore a simple violet dress that fell to her knees. Her feet were bare and her black-gloved hands were mostly covered by her long sleeves.

The doll looked strangely familiar, and the features were ahead of the time when it was made. The position was a little weird too, since it looked as if she was dancing with an invisible partner. There wasn't any clue to there having been another doll that could have been lost. Perhaps one of the strangest things though, was that despite it was over 300 years old, there were absolutely no signs of aging. Not a single crack or chip, the colors were not even slightly faded, and then there was still that nagging feeling that he had seen a girl like that somewhere before. The comforting but slightly recognizable music didn't help.

"As a little hint, I was humming the tune earlier. The doll was supposedly modeled after a girl who was 'socially insane', and kept in an asylum for most of her life."

Still, it annoyed Arthur deeply how familiar everything about the box was, almost like a memory block was cast on it. Or himself.

"So, the price is 36 pounds, but I can most certainly go lower if you like." Arthur took out his wallet and then remembered that he meant to just go out to lunch and maybe stop by a general store on the way home, so he didn't bring his card.

"Like... how about thirty?" Lottie continued.

"I'm sorry, but I only have twenty-seven with me at the moment."

"Then you can simply pay the other five pounds later." She held out her hand as Arthur gave her the money and with a few clicks and a "shp", Arthur had bought himself a tagless, queer, music box. As he left the store, he caught a glimpse of the other customer's blue-grey jacketed back, noticing his or her messy blonde hair that looked to be cut carelessly and short.

After going home and working out a spell he was recently having trouble with, Arthur decided to take another look at the music box. It still bothered him that he simply could not place where he had seen the doll before. The shopkeeper was awfully strange too, and what did the box have to do with him? Did she know he was the physical personification of the very country they live in, and therefore the very same pirate Captain Arthur Kirkland that she had mentioned? He spent a good amount of time thinking about how it could all fit together, though to no avail.

He unlocked the music box again and listened to the calming tune that played as the tiny doll turned, frozen in her strange position till the moment she would become broken pieces of porcelain scattered amongst a junkyard.

Arthur eventually got over his curious frustration and kept the box locked on his dresser where he would unlock it and listen whenever he had a rather tiring day, of which was nearly everyday. Between treaties, wars, world conferences, internal affairs briefings, alliance meetings, and everything else that happened in his everyday life, he just needed a moment to relax. His only escapes were basically magic and sleep, although those often were intertwined with work too. Arthur definitely missed his days of piracy. He could do whatever he wished, the only obligation being to keep his crew alive, and even that was loose. The comforting sea breeze, the adrenaline rush of battle, and the freedom. Sure, the world was meaner and not everyone was "free", but he didn't need to worry about anyone. The freedom he felt on the high seas was the icing on the cake for him. How he wished to go back to that time, and honestly he could, but it would have a drastic affect on the timeline, and a paradox might even form if he wasn't scrutinizingly careful.

Even so, he had nothing left but the memories to remind him. When the British government finally got him under control, his crew, ship, and all his treasures were either taken away or destroyed before his very eyes, proving that no matter how powerful he is, it's the masses that he relies on, and the government will control the masses until anarchy takes hold.

"It was for the better of England anyway." He told himself that for probably the millionth time. He smiled though, because now he had something. Although he didn't recognize it, the music box became a memoir for him, and while it did bring back painful memories, it brought the good ones too, and that's what matters.

Three months after the purchase of the music box. Three months of locking and unlocking, but surprisingly never needing to reset the turn key. He actually couldn't even turn it when he tried, but the music played whenever he opened it.

This time, something was different. After a couple minutes of listening, the music stopped. Arthur assumed it was because it had finally come to an end, but as he stood up to go rewind it, the doll started to glow with a luminescent lavender light. He stood still, thinking about the spellbook in the drawer next to the bed that he was at the end of.

As the light grew, it traveled to the floor and shaped into a girl. The girl, in fact, looked exactly like the doll, and even held the same position. The light soon vanished, leaving the girl stumbling forward but quickly gaining her balance and standing normally. She looked around, and as soon as her eyes met with Arthur's, her neutral expression turned to one of rage. She stepped forward, fists clenched as she yelled.

"You fecking, god forbidden, barmy, good for nothing, two toned, bloody, dodgy, poxy, wyneb cach, piss-artist pirate!"

Arthur was distracted though, by the flood of memories that came into his mind. Memories from the year and a half that he had known her but somehow forgotten until now. "I can't believe... It's you."

_Wyneb cach - shit face_

_36 British pounds is roughly equal to $60._


	2. Little Welsh Girl

Arthur couldn't believe what was happening. The last time he saw the girl was when he dropped her off at a port in southern Wales. He felt bad about leaving her in the market then sailing away, but it had to be done. He had to keep her safe. The next thing he did was find someone to erase all his memories of what happened since he met her, and then turn himself in to the marines.

"Wait... that wench, she knew!" Arthur mumbled to himself and looked up just in time to see a pale hand rush towards him, slapping his face hard enough to leave his cheek a bright red.

"You bloody haliwr! You abandoned me!" Holding his cheek, Arthur slowly raised his head to see the girl standing before him, her head in her hands as she breathed heavily. "I trusted you! You helped me leave that wretched asylum and I thought you weren't so bad for a pirate, but I was so wrong, and it cost me everything!" Her voice cracked, sounding to be on the verge of crying but trying to hold it back the best she could.

Arthur stood still for a moment before slowly and gently setting his hand on her shoulder. She flinched at the sudden contact.

"Oliviére..." She looked up at him silently before she furrowed her eyebrows in thought.

"You're short." Oliviére said rather bluntly. He was taken aback and was confused for a moment.

"Beg you pardon?"

She took a tiny step back, crossing her arms. She could still feel the dried tears on her cheek, but had another issue at hand. "You used to be at around 13 centimetres taller than me, possibly 15, but now you're only about 3, maybe 5 centimetres taller. And what's with the weird clothes? What happened to the fancy shirt and blood red coat?" Arthur sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"It's been a very long time. Over three hundred years, so you can't expect things to be the same, least of all the status and fashion of a country." He looked over to see Oliviére wide eyed for a moment, but she quickly covered it and scoffed.

"It can't have been that long. Heh, next you'll tell me you gained control of Ireland, and Wales."

"And Scotland, though there have been slight issues lately. And only Northern Ireland. I basically represent the United kingdom now, less of just England." Arthur stated matter-of-factly, muttering though about his brothers' dismay. Oliviére started laughing hysterically, holding her stomach as she leaned forward a little, almost falling to the floor. He said her name a couple times, trying to get her to stop, but she just kept laughing for a couple minutes before finally taking a deep breath and walking over to sit on his bed, him doing the same.

"If you've expanded your power, then how come you got so much shorter? Just how much did you lose in return?" She half smiled at him, but it soon faded when she saw the grim look on his face. She tilted her head slightly and said with a softened tone, "Arthur? What happened to you?"

He remained quiet for a moment, but decided to tell her, although it brought back a melancholy mood.

"I lost all my colonies. Hong Kong, India, South Africa... America..." He whispered the last word, but she heard it nonetheless.

"That's what you get for being such a pen pidyn to everyone you interact with." She said bluntly. He glared at her but didn't get upset.

"You're still as unlady-like as ever I see..."

"That's what happens when you're cooped up in an insane asylum for most of your life then kidnapped by a pirate, only to be abandoned by him later. I didn't exactly have very good role models, and everyone thought I was chumpy anyway." She would've continued, saying that no one really cared for her aside from maybe him, but she lost faith in that when he left her. Instead, Oliviére smiled a little, something she hadn't done honestly in a very long time. "Though I see 300 years give or take changed you an awful lot. But those strange eyebrows of yours..." Arthur's face turned slightly red as he leaned forward.

"What about my eyebrows? There's nothing wrong with them!" She rolled her eyes at his defensive but flustered reaction.

"Arthur, they're about as big as a gorilla's trunch-" Before she could finish, a loud slam could be heard downstairs, followed by someone yelling in an American accent.

"Iggy! Arthur dude I think I found something really awesome that maybe you might even like!" Arthur froze, knowing that he would be interrogated if Oliviére were to be seen. She saw the look on his face and whispered, "I take it you want me to hide?" He nodded in reply, standing up to go to the door. He heard a scoff behind him and turned back to see a smirk plastered on her face.

"Sorry annywyl, but I'm not on your ship anymore. I don't have to listen to you."

"You're still in my house, and I will never live it down if Alfred sees you in here." Arthur hissed. Oliviére crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow, glancing behind him.

"Dude, who's the chick?" Arthur turned around to see none other than Alfred F. Jones, one of the causes of many of his troubles.

"I'm done for..." he mumbled, closing his eyes in exasperation. A gasp came from Alfred.

"Iggy were you about to get-" Arthur's hand shot up to cover his mouth, his own face tinted pink at the thought of what Alfred was going to say.

"Mind your tongue, and your language." He slowly removed his hands, only to see a goofy grin on Alfred's face.

"You were, weren't you?"

"I was not you git! She's just an old friend." As the two started arguing, Oliviére decided to take a good look around the room. She noticed a couple strange looking things, probably normal for Arthur though. She stepped over to the small table next to his bed. Upon it rested a "unique" lamp, a dark reflective and rectangular object, and an object with glowing numbers on it that currently read "13:41". On of the buttons on the top of the latter object was inscribed with the word "radio", another being "snooze", and so on.

She decided to press the radio button, and much to her surpurise, music started to play softly from it. Assuming it was some sort of recording device, she moved on to the smaller, rectangular object. Oliviére picked it up carefully and turned it over in her hands to examine it. Pressing a button on the top, an image appeared in the previously shiny black side. There also was a sequence of numbers below a message that started "Enter Pin".

"What the... wait, it's a number lock. How do I figure it out though..." Pooling her knowledge of the brit, the first sequence she tried was 423. Following was 234, 0423, and 2304. None of them worked. "Well... he was interested in black magic..." 666 proved fruitless, as well as a range of other combinations. After trying for the 43rd time, Oliviére sighed in defeat. She looked over to see Arthur and Alfred still arguing about who knows what, and decided to be blunt.

"Hey Arthur! What's the password to this... whatever this happens to be?"

"1928... wait what?" He turned around to see Oliviére typing in the numbers and her face lit up when the lock screen disappeared. Arthur quickly walked over and tried to snatch the device, though she held it away. "Give my phone back please!"

"Phone? I'm sorry, but I don't happen to know what such a thing would be." She said, smirking slightly. She started pressing things on the phone, seeing various images come up on the screen.

"Oliviére if you do not hand over the device that currently resides in possession of your right hand, I will have no choice but to force you to." He narrowed his eyes at her, though she looked at it in wonder.

"It seems like some sort of... information holding device? Like a notebook or even a library. It certainly is interesting."

"Oliviére-" Alfred stepped over, getting a better look at the girl and interrupting Arthur.

"Hey, you look really familiar..." he squinted at her, though she was entranced as she continued to explore Arthur's phone.

"Now is certainly not the time, Alfred." Arthur glared at him, his mind temporarily distracted from worrying about whatever Oliviére might be looking at. After a moment though, Alfred's face lit up.

"You're that girl that was on Arthur's pirate ship when I was a kid! Wait, how are you still alive?" His face quickly turned to confusion, causing Arthur to sigh.

"It's complicated..." Alfred's eyes widened, assuming she was kept alive by the same means as Gilbert, Kumajirou, and Kiku and Tino's dogs. Seeing his expression though, Arthur felt the urge to slap him.

"She's not immortal. Like I said, it's complicated."

"Then explain it to me so I understand! Otherwise I'll assume you used some of your black magic crap on her or turned her into a demon or something."

"To be honest, I don't actually know. I haven't exactly had the chance to ask Oliviére herself." Arthur narrowed his eyes at Alfred, obviously blaming him because of the interruption he caused. All the while, Oliviére's eyes widened as she suddenly exclaimed in a mix of surpurise and shock, maybe even horror.

"Arthur! What in bloody hell is this?" The boys both looked over to see Oliviére holding out the phone to face them. The image shown wasn't particularly virtuous, and definitely not something you would think a real "gentleman" would have on his cellular device. Alfred burst out laughing as Arthur proceeded to snatch the phone out of her hand.

"That's not mine!" He stuttered, the blood rushing up and heating his face. Looking at the data details, it was from two days prior, when he had been out drinking with Alfred, with Allistor coming along because he thought "It's been a while since I've seen my little brother make a fool of himself after only a couple shots."

"Dude, isn't that the chick that you got completely put down by?" Arthur quickly deleted the photo and looked as if he were getting ready to punch the obnoxious American. Instead, he turned to the statuesque Oliviére, who was wondering what to think of it all.

"I'm terribly sorry that you had to see that. A young lady such as yourself did never be shown such improprieties..." He sighed, bowing his head apologetically. She instantly looked up at him with an expression of annoyance.

"Pardon me? I am a mature woman who can handle a stupid image, not the helpless little Welsh girl you always thought I was! It may have been a long time for you, but not me. I am sick of your male chauvinistic views that hide behind the gentleman act when you're with a woman!" There was a quiet moment Oliviére glaring at Arthur, and he merely looked back in surpurise.

"You just got burned!" Alfred gladly broke the silence, putting a hand on Arthur's shoulder. "I think she can match both yours and Lovino's tempers!"

"Get out." He looked at Arthur questioningly.

"What?"

"I said get out. I need to talk to Oliviére privately for a moment." Arthur turned to look at him in the eyes before he nodded and left. "Sit down please." He and Oliviére sat down on the bed, facing each other.

"To start off, I truly am sorry for not only treating you the way I did, but leaving you alone so suddenly. I hope you can forgive me." She shifted uncomfortably, thinking about what to say.

"Only if you explain. And, only after you explain will I tell what happened afterward. Deal?" Oliviére looked him in the eyes, and he nodded in reply, taking a deep breath before starting.

"Where do I start... I know this will sound cliché, but I acted that way because I couldn't let anyone, especially my crew, think I was soft. As for leaving-"

"Abandoning." Oliviére interrupted. Arthur sighed and nodded.

"-abandoning you, it was to keep you safe. Things were changing, and I would be risking your life if I kept you around... afterwards, I did a few reckless things to make it easy for the Navy to find me, and I enlisted the help of a witch to take away all of my memories since I met you. Just before I was caught, I drank the potion she gave me and was as I was before."

"... was having me around really that terrible that you wanted to-" This time it was Arthur's turn to interject.

"I didn't want the temptation of looking for you."

"Oh yes, because having the courtesy to explain the situation to me would make it too hard to leave me alone." She shot a glare at him.

"Can you honestly say you wouldn't have gone out of your way to find me?" Arthur tilted his head slightly, maintaining a soft expression. Oliviére inhaled sharply, her face turning stone cold.

"I couldn't. The day after you left me, I was kidnapped... And was certainly by people much less 'pleasant' than you." She avoided his gaze, soon deciding to finish her side. "They kept me in a locked room, occasionally coming in to take blood, amongst other things. Eventually, they set me in a pentagram with a wooden box and cast a spell. The last thing I remember is seeing the grinning man whose eyes hid behind the glare of his spectacles, and the soft smile of the woman who always sat by and watched, perhaps instilling more fear in me than the clear insanity of the man." Oliviére looked back up when she finished, expecting Arthur to patronize and pity her.

"...I'm sorry. They didn't hurt you, did they?"

"I didn't say that I would tell you everything." Oliviére looked at him blankly. "Moving on, let's just say that it's all in the past. Nothing can be done about it. It's not as if they're still alive..." Arthur nodded and held his hand out.

"So shall we start anew?" Oliviére chuckled and shook his hand.

"Gladly."

_Haliwr - Wanker_

_Pen pidyn - Dick head_

_Annywyl - Dearie_

_Chumpy means crazy_

_Oliviére was going to say "gorilla's truncheon", which means gorilla's penis._

_1928, as far as I can tell, is the year that England turned democratic (it took place over several years I believe, so I went with the last)_

_Allistor is Scotland_

_Just to clarify, even though her parents are Welsh, Oliviére grew up in Britain. Therefore, she speaks both languages, she talks like a Briton and even has the accent._

_I have been informed that Prussia is alive because a region is still called that, and though that is likely true, I will stick to the following headcanon (partly for the purposes of the story):_

_All the countries have the option of keeping one thing alive. Japan and Finland's dogs, Kumajirou, and for a while Gilbird. What most don't know, is that it can apply to more than just animals. Most people think Germany keeps his dogs alive, but it's actually Prussia._


End file.
